


Sam Winchester, The Heat-Seeker

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic courtship, But nothing sexual, Charlie's ALIVE AND HAPPY, Enochian, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Sabriel Fluff, ace!sam, angel lore, angel mating rituals, asexual!sam, but no sex, demi!cas, demisexual!Cas, everything's a little sexual, heat seeker!sam, i mean with gabe, sam just gets cold too easily, side destiel, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 07:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3126428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets cold in the bunker, wakes up, and goes to grab some coffee. On his way back, he ends up finding a really warm room. Is there anywhere better for him to sleep?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I sent a headcanon to emi-lema-lou on tumblr, and that sort of evolved into this. Whoops.

Sam woke up for no reason, as far as he could tell. It was quiet in the bunker, and none of the alarms he and Dean had set up were going off. No one was in his room, and he didn't smell or see anything unnatural. He rolled over to check the flickering fluorescent green numbers on his alarm clock and groaned. 2:04 a.m. He snuggled deeper into his comforter and tried to get back to sleep before realizing that the reason that he'd woken up in the first place was because it was too damn cold in his room. The cheap comforter Dean had bought for him at a Walmart they'd passed through wasn't nearly enough, and his feet were practically frozen. 

He groaned again. Dean must've switched off the heater or something, that jerk. Ever since they'd been kids, Dean had been the one who was always too hot, while Sam was the heat-seeker. The nagging on one side of the car from Dean about the heat while Sam complained on the other side about how cold it was had always driven John insane on road trips, to the point where he'd thrown a blanket at Sam and a mini fan at Dean whenever they started up. 

But now Dean was able to make his room as Antarctic as he wanted it to be, and Sam should be able to make his as hot as the surface of the sun, since they had separate thermostats for their bedroom. Sam buried his face in his pillow and huffed in frustration. Dean was probably messing with his heating, trying to see how long Sam would last. 

Sam swung his long legs out of bed and shivered as his body was exposed to the cold. Dean wouldn't have to wait long -- Sam was ready to break.

He grabbed the comforter from his bed and draped it around his shoulders, feeling a little like King Lear with the bedraggled blanket around his body, then feeling completely dorky for making Shakespeare references at two in the morning. He shook off the embarrassment (Dean wasn't around to make fun of him) and winced as his feet hit the cold tile. Sam made a mental note to buy some fluffy, warm socks for winters like this and stumbled into the kitchen. 

Dean and Gabriel could spend hours in the kitchen, but Sam never really saw the attraction. Sure, the marble countertops and large gas range were nice, but why would you take the time to put together an elaborate meal when you could just toss a salad? The only thing that Sam liked in the kitchen was the high-tech coffee machine. 

Especially now. He knew it was unlikely that he'd be able to get back to sleep -- he'd had enough insomniac nights to know. So coffee and a book until Dean got his lazy ass out of bed it was. Sam slumped against the counter while the grinder crushed the beans, and when it beeped to let him know that the coffee would be ready soon, he moved over to check the thermostat monitor next to the stove. Yep, Dean had messed with it. Usually Sam programmed his room to stay at a comfortable 80 degrees, but Dean had lowered it to 60, the temperature that he liked to sleep at. Sam pushed a button on his room's temperature settings only to have a message appear that read "Settings locked. Please enter password."

He slapped at the thermostat's buttons in frustration. Dean was such an asshole. The thermostat beeped angrily and flashed a message reading "Incorrect password." Sam sighed and gave up, walking over to the coffee machine to grab his finished cup. 

He took a long slurp of the coffee and moaned in appreciation. God, he'd never get tired of caffeine. Hands wrapped around the cup and sucking every bit of warmth from it that he could, Sam began the journey back to his room. 

Strangely, though, he ended up in a part of the bunker that he'd seen only once or twice -- a row of bedrooms and a bathroom or two in the west wing. When he realized where he was, he groaned again. Frustrated groans seemed to be the recurring theme for the night, but Sam thought he was justified in it. First, Dean screwed with the heater and he'd woken up, then he'd managed to get some coffee, only to get lost in some obscure corner of the bunker. 

But...wait. Sam moved closer to one of the doors and abruptly found out that either the room behind it was on fire or the heater inside was actually working. In his hazy, sleep-deprived state, he decided that going in was a brilliant idea. 

Sam closed his hand around the doorknob and twisted quickly, then pushed the door open. To his relief, it didn't squeak, but instead opened smoothly. 

If someone ever asked, Sam would deny to the grave that he whimpered in pleasure as he stepped into the room. It was warm and humid, like the Amazonian jungle, and Sam drank in the heat for a few minutes before he realized that he'd closed the door behind him and slid down the wall to the floor. Getting up would just be stupid at this point, so he allowed himself to slump against the wall and enjoy the warmth of the room for a while. 

Eventually, his eyelids started drooping, and he found himself at the brink of sleep more than once. He hauled himself up with the use of a chair by the door, and stood quietly in the room for a second. Then he heard a quiet snuffling sound. 

Fuck. Sam stood in utter silence, trying not to breathe. He and Dean had never fully explored the bunker, and the noise could have been caused by literally anything. He pulled out his gun and his phone, flicking on the flashlight application, and slowly ventured into the room. He swung the flashlight in a slow arc, and it revealed a couple of wingback chairs, a writing desk, a huge tower of sweets, a sofa...Sam did a double take and turned the flashlight back, and yep, that was an enormous pile of candy. He walked closer and saw that it was made up of a variety of Hershey's bars, Tootsie Pops, Skittles, gummy worms, M&Ms, and what looked like some stale pastries. Well, that pretty much settled the issue of whose room it was. Either a Man of Letters hadn't wanted to go along with his wife's diet, or this was where Gabriel had been crashing since he'd shown up to the bunker bloody and covered in dirt and asked for a place to stay. 

It had been hard to convince Dean, but Sam had eventually managed to talk him into letting Gabriel stay. At first, he'd been against it too, but Gabriel had looked up at him with puppy dog eyes that he'd probably perfected over the millennia and said, "Please, Samsquatch? You wouldn't leave an archangel out in the cold, would you?" Sam had relented pretty quickly. 

After a while, even Dean had to admit that having Gabriel around helped. He cheered up Cas, was happy to use his angelic powers for stupid things like conjuring up porn mags for Dean or getting Sam some lettuce, made mouthwatering food, and generally eased the tension that had become a big part of their lives. Every time Dean started to angst, Gabriel was there to say something like, "Dean, you're acting like Sharpay again. You're not getting the part and this is not High School Musical." 

But while Gabriel could be a snarky, annoying douchebag, he could also be kind and amazingly caring. He helped and took care of Cas all the time, and he made Dean pies when they couldn't make it to a convenience store and watched bad Westerns with him (which Sam couldn't stand). Not to mention that Sam had found candy bars in his room more than once when he was having a bad day that he was pretty sure were from the only person who could and would create them out of thin air. He'd never told Dean about the little puns attached to them that said things like "I'm nuts for you" on the chocolate bars with nuts or "Really missing my Hot Tamale!" on the, you guessed it, Hot Tamales, but he'd kept every one of them. 

Or the time that Gabriel had sung to Sam. Not the usual stupid pop crap that he usually sang while messing around in the bunker or bothering Dean, but something ancient and beautiful. Sam had been working on his laptop when Gabriel had swooshed in and thrown himself onto the bed, then started singing something in a low, rich voice that ached as Sam listened to it. He didn't understand the words, but the melody was so sad and sweet that it nearly brought him to tears. When he'd asked Gabe what it was, Gabriel had replied with, "Just something I used to sing a long time ago. It hasn't been sung for a couple thousand years, and I thought you might like it." Sam had tried to thank him, but he'd zapped out of the room before the words could come out of Sam's mouth. 

Or even just those stupid moments when they all watched Doctor Sexy together and Gabriel curled up beside Sam or occasionally just sat on his lap. Dean always made fun of him during commercial breaks when Gabriel went to grab more candy, but Sam loved how warm and cuddly Gabriel was, even if he refused to admit it. 

Sam walked further into the room, and his flashlight landed on a huge four-post canopied bed. His breath caught in his throat. _Oh_. Gabriel was lying on the bed dressed in only white boxer shorts, covers flung to the side and his wings spread out below him. Sam blushed for a moment, then moved closer to the bed, thinking about how much softer Gabriel looked while asleep. Gabriel's cheeks were slightly flushed, and his hair was mussed in a way that he never would have allowed it to be if he was awake. The half-buried power that showed on his face in the day was gone, erased and replaced with deep lines that showed much how his stunt as a pagan god had affected him. 

But his wings were...beautiful. There was no other word to describe them. They were gold, with streaks of white in the primary feathers, and they shimmered slightly under the glow of the flashlight. And they were huge, expanding over nearly the entire bed. He stretched out his hand and cautiously brushed his fingers along the edge of one of them, and Gabriel shifted and moaned a bit. Sam stepped back quickly, but Gabriel didn't wake up. 

As he leaned over Gabriel, his coffee sloshed around inside its cup, and Sam came back to himself. What was he doing, creeping into Gabriel's bedroom and watching him sleep at two in the morning? That was just weird, even by Winchester standards. He turned to leave, then remembered how cold his bedroom and the rest of the bunker were. Sam stood paralyzed with indecision for a few minutes at the foot of Gabriel's bed before deciding that, fuck it, he was going to stay and get a decent night's sleep for once. He looked around for the sofa, but didn't see it, and he wasn't going to sleep on the ground. 

He decided to go all out and tapped Gabriel gently. The archangel didn't respond. Sam shook his shoulder, but he snored on. Sam put his coffee cup down onto the nightstand, then kept trying to wake him up for a while. Eventually, he gave up and crawled into bed beside Gabriel, letting his comforter fall off of the side of the bed. 

Instantly, Sam was warm. Not just sitting-by-a-fire warm, or hot-cup-of-coffee warm, but _warm_. He was warm like someone had poured fire into his veins, like he was next to the summer sun in Florida instead of an archangel, like being cold didn't exist. He moaned, a long, drawn-out, almost whimpering sound, then prayed to every angel he could think of that Gabriel hadn't heard him. Gabriel didn't move, so Sam assumed that his prayers had worked and burrowed down inside the mass of blankets on Gabriel's bed. He was still hazily exhausted, and instead of thinking about the implications of falling asleep next the most Captain-Jack-Harkness-like guy since the great Captain himself, he ran his fingers through Gabriel's wings again, hypnotized by the feel of them. It was so soothing that he nearly fell asleep with his hands in Gabriel's feathers, but managed to pull himself away and wrap his arms around his pillow before drifting off. 

Sam woke up to someone combing their fingers through his hair, which was amazing for a few seconds, then he remembered where he was and jolted backwards. He'd been wrapped around Gabriel, leg between his thighs and arms around his chest. 

"Oh my god, Gabriel, I am so sorry," he babbled. 

Gabriel stopped him with a finger to his lips and a wink. "It's okay, Sammoose, but I would like to know exactly what prompted you to do this. First, you start groping my wings, which I'm totally fine with--" he wiggled his eyebrows "-- but it's sort of a totally sexual thing for angels. It's... Well, it's what mates do for each other." 

He glanced down for a moment, and Sam could've sworn he'd blushed, but after a second Gabriel returned to his cocky self. "Then you start moaning like a porn star after you get into, let me emphasize here, my bed. Sam, I can resist many things, but you moaning in my bed isn't one of them. Then you started attacking my wings again before you passed out. You could've at least been considerate enough to finish the job."

Sam blushed hotly at the idea of what Gabriel was implying, even if it did turn him on a little more than he expected it to. And by a little more, he meant rather a bit. "I swear I didn't mean to. Dean screwed with the heater, and I went to the kitchen to grab some coffee. When I was coming back, I got lost, and your room was really warm, and-" 

Gabe cut him off with a smirk and said, "Oh, Sammy, you just want me for my body heat."

"I am so sorry, Gabriel. I didn't mean to do anything weird; I was just really curious about your wings."

Gabriel leveled a solemn stare at him. "Sam, I told you that I was all right with it. It's just that...even angels ask for consent, you know?" His eyes crinkled into a smile as Sam started apologizing again. 

Suddenly, they were interrupted by Dean, who banged the door open, calling, "Sammy! Sa-," then stared at them in a combination of shock and confusion. He stammered out, "Sam, are you...did you-" he gestured to Gabriel, who was spread out on the bed and looking thoroughly debauched with his messy hair and pink lips as Sam glanced at him. Gabriel winked, and Sam blushed again. 

"No! No, I was just cold last night, and I was trying to find somewhere warm, and then I came in here because it was like a freakin' furnace, and I was trying to find the couch but then I noticed the bed, and so I decided to sleep here. I didn't even know Gabriel was in it," Sam lied. 

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Sam, there's no way you didn't notice him. Angels let their wings out when they sleep. He's short, but with six pairs of wings in the bed? You saw him."

Sam gave Dean a mock-curious look. "Dean, how do you know what angels look like when they're sleeping?" 

Dean blushed a bright red. "That's not the issue here," he blustered. 

Gabriel rose up onto one elbow lazily. "I think it is -- you're screwing my baby brother."

"You're screwing mine!" Dean blurted. 

Gabriel grinned. "Not yet, princess, although I'd like to be." He shot Sam a smoldering look, and Sam did his best to ignore him. 

"Oh, I'm supposed to believe that you guys just slept in the same bed together? Please," Dean said. 

Gabriel held up his little finger. "Pinky promise, Dean-o. I did not fuck Sam, and he did not fuck me. He just molested my wings a little while he thought I was unconscious, which I'm told was because he was curious, and then he fell asleep."

Dean backed down a little. "Okay," he muttered. "Sam, I just wanted to tell you that I'm gonna run out and grab us some breakfast."

"I can cook," Gabriel offered, tossing off the covers and revealing the fact that he was completely undressed. 

"Gabriel, no," Dean groaned. "I did not need that image in my head."

"I think Sam's okay with it," Gabriel said, turning to Sam, who definitely had not been staring at him. 

Dean pressed his fingers to his temples. "I'm going to leave now. Please, nobody have sex." He walked backwards slowly to the door, then turned the handle and rushed out. 

Gabriel put the bedcovers back over himself and turned to Sam with a smirk, wiggling closer to him. "So, Samsquatch, did you just want to hang out in my bed for a while or were you planning to leave at any point?"

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled off the covers, then flinched at the influx of cold air. He huddled back into the bed with a whimper like an oversized puppy, and Gabriel chuckled. 

"Hanging out in bed it is, I guess. You know, there are a couple things we could do to pass the time besides just lie here." He wiggled his eyebrows at Sam, who sighed and rolled over. 

"No, Gabriel."

Gabriel bit his lip. "Really, Sammoose? Because my wings still need grooming, and what you were doing last night felt pretty damn good. I'd love to have you behind me --" his voice turned low and rough "-- stroking them, running your hands along the tips, fingers buried in their soft heat. I'd melt under you. You know, my wings are even hotter than the rest of me. You could--"

He was cut off by Sam finally giving up and kissing him roughly to shut him up. Gabriel struggled for dominance for a few seconds, then dissolved into the feeling of Sam's lips on his. Their kiss turned aching and slow and sweet as Sam took control and pressed Gabriel into the bed, huge hands on either side of Gabe's body. When they finally broke apart, Gabriel was breathing hard and at a loss for words, for once in his life. Sam grinned and pulled the covers up over them both, wrapping Gabriel up in his arms again. 

When Gabriel could speak again, he asked, "Can we do that again?"

"Yeah," came the muffled response from behind him. "And I'll fix up your wings. But later."

Gabriel twisted in Sam's arms until they were facing each other, then kissed Sam's nose lightly. "Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you?"

"Well, I have you, so I think we're even."

Gabriel shook his head and snuggled into Sam's arms. "Not even close."

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult."

"It's whatever you want it to be, Samsquatch," Gabriel laughed. "Now, are we going to go flaunt ourselves in front of your brother or what? I've been waiting long enough."

"Wait, what did you say about mating?"

Gabriel definitely flushed this time. "Um, angel mates groom each other's wings. We don't really let people touch our wings unless we want them as mates."

Sam looked startled. "You want me to be your mate?"

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair uncomfortably. "Yeah, actually. If that's what you want."

Sam gazed at him for a minute, then leaned in and kissed him deeply. He pulled back and smiled at Gabriel, who looked dazed and overwhelmingly happy. "Well, it was a crappy proposal, but yes."

Gabriel grinned and pulled Sam with him out of the bed. "Let's go give Dean the happy news." He ignored Sam's protests and dragged him toward the kitchen, calling, "Dean!"


	2. Courtship and Candyman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Sam and Gabriel grow closer, Gabriel explains more about courtship -- and makes a mistake. (AKA I finally, finally found time to update this. Hope you all like it and leave me any thoughts in the comments!)

"No!” Sam grabbed Gabriel and pulled him back into the bed, then blushed as  
Gabriel looked at him oddly. “I mean...can’t we just keep it to ourselves for a little while? Maybe it’d be nice to have something special that Dean’s not a part of for once.”

Gabriel grinned. “That’s my sentimental Sammy.” He settled back into the bed and tugged the covers over himself. “So what’s our plan for today? You want me to whip up some food or are we really just going to lie around all day?”  
“I kinda like that second idea,” Sam answered with a smile.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Laziness coming from the boy who saved the world? The one who put himself through law school, the one who kept coming back for everyone he loved no matter how much they hurt him? You want to just sleep?”

“Not exactly,” Sam said, propping himself up on an elbow. “I’d rather talk. We could get to know each other a little better, seeing as you’re an extraordinarily powerful fallen angel/pagan god.”

“Oh, my pagan days are behind me, Samsquatch. I’m a one-man man now,” Gabriel answered. “But maybe I can rustle up a few stories.”

 

They spent the rest of the morning talking as sunlight slanted lower and lower through the windows. Gabriel told Sam about his life in heaven, about falling and what it felt like to spend centuries as an Old God. Sam pretended he wasn’t taking notes in his head so he could write up the stories in the Men of Letters log to make sure they were never forgotten.

Sam told stories about soccer practice, hunting, about his father and his family. Gabriel pretended that he didn’t know them already and he hadn’t known everything about Sam from the time he was born. (Dean wasn’t the only one with an angel watching over him).

 

“You did not tell Mary that she was pregnant that way!” Sam said, laughing.

Gabriel rolled closer to him. “I did! I told her she was preggers and that she needed to get her shit together because she was about to birth the Savior.”

"Yeah, I can believe that, but you did not pull your horn out of your..”  
Sam stopped as he caught a glimpse of the alarm clock on his nightstand.  
“Crap.”

He swung out of bed quickly and began pulling on his boots. Gabriel gazed at him lazily from the bed. “What’s the rush, Sammy?”

“It’s almost noon,” Sam said, grabbing a couple of layers from the sweets pile.

“And?” Gabriel asked.

“Other people live here, Gabriel. Dean’s going to think that we’ve been...doing things.”

"What, like each other?” Gabriel said, sitting up and wiggling his eyebrows.

Sam rolled his eyes and finished buttoning up his plaid shirt. “It’s a conversation I’d prefer not to have.” He attempted to pull Gabriel out of bed but was thwarted by moaning and hiding under covers. Finally he gave up and said, “I’m going to go eat. Hopefully Dean isn’t here.”

He walked out of the bedroom confidently before realizing that the whole reason he’d ended up in Gabriel’s bed was because he’d had no idea where he was going. Behind him, he heard a snap, and Gabriel appeared fully dressed with perfect hair.

"Lost, Samsquatch?”

Sam sighed. “Can you just take me to the kitchen so I can eat something?”

“Sure thing, lover.” Gabriel snapped again, and they were standing in front of the long marble countertops in the kitchen.

Sam glanced at Gabriel. “How is it possible that you’re not morbidly overweight? I mean, you eat nothing but candy and you never walk anywhere if you can avoid it.” He strode toward the fridge and pulled the blender off a shelf.

“Archangel benefits, Sammy,” Gabriel said, taking a huge bite of the powdered donut that had appeared in his hand. Sam sighed with disgust and dumped kale, protein powder, strawberries, and a few other ingredients into the blender, then turned it on high. He gulped down the smoothie while walking into the living room, then stopped dead.

Dean was lying on the couch with a bowl of cereal and channel-surfing. He gave Sam an asshole-ish smirk and seemed ready to say something when Gabriel spoke.

"What’s wrong?” Gabriel asked, coming up behind Sam and threading an arm around his waist. He saw Dean and his eyes went wide.

Dean said, “Nice to see you two lovebirds up from your…” He checked his watch. “Five-hour session? Man, Sammy, that’s a while, even for you.”

Sam tried to stammer something out, but Gabriel started talking before he could do anything. Gabriel swung over the back of the couch and plopped  
down beside Dean. “Yeah, Dean-o, your brother’s great in bed. Got an amazing mouth, and the way he works the wings?” He moaned. “Absolutely fantastic. And --”

“Please, nothing else,” Dean said, hands firmly clamped over his ears. “I don’t want to know.” He grabbed his cereal and stalked out of the room, bright red.

Gabriel turned and grinned at Sam. “Oversharing. Works every time.”

Sam glared at him. “I’m not sure that was the best way to handle it.”

“Well, he did leave, didn’t he? And now we have a space for you to do a little of that grooming we talked about.” He shook out his wings with an  
easy flick of his shoulders, and Sam sat beside him, cursing the fact that his boyfriend was a brother-antagonizing jerk before getting distracted by Gabriel's feathers again. 

Sam trailed his fingers through Gabriel’s wings lightly, but he seemed tense. Gabriel pulled his wings in and twisted around to face Sam. “What is it?”

Sam sighed. “What is it like to mate?”

Gabriel furrowed his brows. “I wouldn’t know. An angel only gets one per lifetime.”

“Really?” Sam said, his voice filled with awe.

"Yeah. Look, it’s...it’s easiest if you kind of imagine angels as like birds. The whole wing thing, the singing, mating for life…”

“Wait, that’s the reason you sing?”

“Mostly, yeah.” Gabriel snickered. “Poor Cas never could carry a tune. He was always worried he’d never find his mate.”

“But Cas is so … you know, powerful and strong and … ”

Gabriel laughed. “Careful there, Sammy, you’re starting to sound like Dean. Singing is a big part of most mating. It’s pretty important to angels.”

Sam was quiet for a moment, then said, “Put your wings out again.”

Gabriel stretched and focused, and his wings became corporal again. Sam pressed his fingers into them and began humming. “Keep telling me about  
it.”

“Well, it’s different for every pair of mates, but it typically involves a courting stage, a physical stage, and then a bonding stage. The courting stage is where the singing comes in.” He stopped. “Are you humming Florence and the Machine?”

Sam shrugged. “Jess got me into a lot of her alternative stuff. I still love most of it.”

Gabriel sighed with contentment. “Dear Dad, I’m glad I chose you. Great body, flawless mind, and an alt music junkie? How lucky could I get?”

“Focus, Gabriel.”

“I am focusing! Just on the sex god behind my shoulder blades rather than boring details about mating. I can feel you rolling your eyes, Sam.” Gabriel shifted slightly into a more comfortable position, then continued.  
“I’ve seen a lot of the courting stage and unfortunately some of the physical. Some angels are a little more public than others.”

Sam laughed softly from behind Gabriel.

"The actual courtship ritual, though…” A note of reverence entered Gabriel’s voice. “It’s always beautiful and always tied deeply to those performing it. For some it’s more about the dance, others the song, yet others the art or the construction or even the clothing.” Sarcasm crept back in. “Yep, some angels act more like fashion designers around their mates than helpers of God. I’ve never seen a bonding, though. Those are always private, even more so than physicality.”

Sam hummed thoughtfully behind him and pressed lightly on the primary feathers, straightening them. Gabriel sighed. “Heard enough for today?”  
Instead of answering, Sam sang the first few notes of “Howl,” and after a moment Gabriel joined in hesitantly. They sang for a while, Sam’s fingers combing through Gabriel’s feathers, until Gabriel said, “Stop.”

“What?” Sam asked, pulling away from him.

“It’s just that we need some music that’s a little more my speed. Do you know 'Candyman' by Christina Aguilera?”

Sam burst out laughing. “Of course.”

Gabriel stood up and began gyrating, and Sam belted out the first few lyrics. They laughed and sang together loudly. Near the end of the song, Sam remembered where they were and sent out a quiet prayer along the lines of  
‘Please, dear God, don’t let Dean have heard that.’

When they finished, they fell onto the couch together, and Gabriel folded his wings neatly into his back. “Thank you, Sam. For the grooming and the laughter. It’s...it’s been a while,” he said sincerely.

Sam smiled. He knew how difficult it could be for Gabriel to open up (the 'Candyman' mess that had just happened was proof), and it was nice to hear Gabriel being honest for once. 

Suddenly, a loud swooshing sound filled the room, and Cas appeared.  
"Where’s De-” He turned a bright shade of red. “Sam?”

"What’s up, Cas?”

“Well, you, um. Um, well... you... Gabriel!”

“What are you talking about, baby bro?” Gabriel asked in confusion. “I didn’t do anything to him!”

Cas sniffed the air delicately and coughed. “Gabriel, it seems that you’ve marked him. I expect every angel within a five-mile radius can tell.”

Gabriel’s eyes went wide. “Oh, shit.”


	3. Charlie Bradbury Knows What's Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Gabriel explain marking, Dean brings up a case, and Charlie works through the Winchester Library of Weird Shit.   
> Little bit of angst in this chapter (sorry, but I had to).

Sam waited for a few seconds, then gave up on waiting for Gabriel and Castiel to explain. They were staring at each other intently as if they were trying to communicate through telepathy. For all Sam knew, they were. For some reason, he and Dean hadn’t had a lot of time to learn about freaky angel powers back when they were trying not to die in the apocalypse.

“So…” he said. “Is angelic marking like animalistic marking?”

Castiel looked at Sam like he might need to be admitted to the heavenly equivalent of a mental asylum. Gabriel seemed to remember that Sam couldn’t communicate through angelic brain waves and said, “No, this is much worse.”

Inwardly, Sam sighed deeply. Would the Winchesters ever be able to hear, ‘No, this is much better!’ instead of ‘No, this is much worse?’ 

Gabriel ran his hand through his hair nervously. “I forgot about marking, since it’s usually a cupid thing. Angels don’t do it a lot.” He looked at Cas helplessly, who nodded and gestured toward the couch. 

“It may be easier to take in if you are seated, Sam.” Sam followed instructions and dropped onto the couch. He hadn’t even had coffee yet and already he was being hit with an angelic disaster.

“Angelic marking is fairly untraditional. Usually, a cupid will mark angels, since they tend to be rather oblivious, but there are other pairs who prefer to do it themselves.  
“Marking is a grace-fueled process. Typically, an angel who consents to being marked allows the other angel’s grace to permeate their own grace. It is very difficult to explain to a human, but I expect it is something like the very strands of your own deoxyribonucleic acid being unraveled and entwined with the other being’s own strands until every molecule between you is made up of the two of you and what you are together.”

Sam’s chest filled with something very much like light. Gabriel had chosen _him_ for this, and the angel had been so in love that he had done it by accident.

“It is a process of being fused together so intimately and closely that it is nearly impossible to cleave apart the two. However, it is also extraordinarily dangerous and fragile, especially when attempted with a human, and even more so when attempted before bonding. I believe it has only occurred successfully before bonding a few times, and just once before with a human. Additionally, the mark glows extremely brightly on the vessel of the angel as a sort of warning sign to other beings.”

Sam blinked hard and went into the kitchen to grind the coffee beans and heat the water. When he sat back down, Cas added, “It is likely that the mark will attract monsters to you and Dean on hunts, as well as other angels.”

Sam shook his head. “Well, the angels are all up in heaven, right? They shouldn’t be much of a problem.”

“Um,” Cas said uncomfortably.

“What little Cassie is trying to say,” Gabriel interjected, “is that there are at least a legion of angels on Earth on missions at any given time, and at last count twenty-six defectors, like me. Those are the ones partying in Vegas, conducting ritualistic sacrifices in Europe, or happily settled down with a white picket fence somewhere in suburban America. The fun ones, in other words. Oh, but they all totally probably want to kill you.”

This time Sam sighed out loud. “Why do they want to kill us?”

Gabriel looked surprised. “You guys totally messed with the balance of heaven! None of those angels wanted a Lord of the Flies situation going on up there. Except for maybe Asteraoth. He always really enjoyed it when there were power struggles going on -- threw these massive parties with tons of ambrosia… Anyway, I guess most of them figure that if they get rid of the Winchesters, they’ll have an easier time of it. Good news: the mark should only attract them for like a week, tops.”

The machine beeped to tell Sam that the coffee was finished, and he grabbed a mug thankfully. He offered some to Cas, who passed, and then to Gabriel, who said, “I’m actually more of a tea person, but thanks.” He snapped, and a cup of Earl Grey appeared in his hand. 

“So Dean and I need to get out of the bunker if we want it to stay a secret,” Sam said tiredly. 

“Actually, Cas and I can probably pull off some magic that’ll work with the rest of the protection. Bad news: you can’t leave,” Gabriel answered.

“That doesn’t bother me,” Sam said, winking at Gabriel, who grinned back. Castiel looked between them and blushed. 

“It’ll probably drive Dean crazy,” Sam added. Gabriel looked behind him and said loudly, “Speak of the devil.”

“Hey, Sam,” Dean yelled, since he was wearing headphones, probably to combat Gabriel’s comments. “Is it safe for me to take these off?” He pointed at the headphones as if Sam couldn’t tell that they were what he was talking about. Sam nodded, and Dean pulled off the headphones and put his pink iPod down carefully on the couch. 

“So Bobby called, and we’ve got a case. It’s in Tennessee. Sounds like something’s killing people just by looking at them? The details aren’t super clear, but I think it seems like our kind of thing.”  
“Actually, we’ve got a little problem,” Sam began before Cas cut in.

“Gabriel has bonded himself to Sam at the atomic level. They are tied together nucleus to nucleus, electrons spinning in the same orbit.” 

“Whoa, no,” Dean said, reaching for his headphones again. 

“Not like that!” Sam said. “It’s an angelic marking. The problem is that it’s going to attract monsters to us and probably some pissed-off angels unless we stay in the bunker and let Cas and Gabe protect us.”

“First, how did that even happen? Second, ughhh,” Dean said. “Why can’t we ever just go out and hunt something? Why are there always angel dicks in the way?”

“Apparently it was an accident,” Sam answered. “And I have no idea.”

“Just couldn’t help myself,” Gabriel said, lounging back across one of the chairs, although Sam noticed a flash of guilt across his face. 

“I guess we could pass on this one, Sammy. It’ll probably be okay,” Dean said, looking like it was definitely not okay. 

“Dean, we’ve never passed on a case before. Are you sure you’re feeling all right? Not possessed or anything?”

“Yeah, of course,” Dean blustered. “It’s just that Cas probably knows what he’s doing, right?” 

Cas smiled, and Dean glanced over at him and blushed. Sam looked at Dean and wondered whether Dean was comfortable sleeping with Cas or if the big gay crisis hadn’t started to happen yet. Probably not. Dean would be overasserting his heterosexuality if it had. He decided to focus on the task at hand, even though next to him Gabriel muttered, “He is so bi.”

“Dean, we have to go help these people. It’s a basilisk!”

“How do you know?” Dean said. The identification had been fast, even for Sam “Nerd Wizard” Winchester.

“Dean, Harry Potter. Book 2: Chamber of Secrets. There was a basilisk trying to kill all the Muggleborns. Hermione Granger figured that out?”

“Oh yeah, the one you said you were going to marry in fifth grade!”

“I didn’t want to marry her, I wanted to be her. Totally different,” Sam retorted. “And maybe marry her,” he added under his breath.  
“So if you’ve got all the info on how to gank this thing, we can head out right now,” Dean said, looking more cheerful already. “Cas and I’ll go gas up the Impala.”

“Let me just check on a few books…” Sam said, standing up to go to the library.

“Just use the system Charlie put together. She showed me how to use it last night -- it was kinda confusing, but she already installed the program on the computer. It’s called ‘The Winchester Library of Weird Shit,’” Dean called over his shoulder, already heading toward the garage with Cas.

“Didn’t Charlie show you that program a week ago?” Gabriel asked languidly from his position on the couch. 

Sam grinned. “Yeah, and Dean shouldn’t be complaining. That thing is probably more user-friendly than Microsoft Word.” He glanced around. “Where is Charlie, by the way?”

Charlie, like Gabriel, had shown up at the bunker a few weeks ago, but she’d come with arms laden with computer equipment and a small suitcase. When Sam asked why she’d come back, she deflected the question with, “I couldn’t abandon my big bros! And besides, your library needs some serious updating.” Since then, she’d been basically cloistered in the bedroom Sam had made up for her, busily writing the program, inputting data, and fighting the inevitable bugs in the system. She emerged only to get more Red Bull and Kit Kats, although Sam had tried to make sure she had some real food by leaving plates of whatever he and Dean had eaten outside her door. He thought her attitude might have something to do with her parents, but he hadn’t pried. 

“She was up late last night,” Gabriel answered. “Last time I checked through the bunker, she was scrolling through Tumblr and trying to fix a piece of code. It’s a good thing you guys have high-speed Internet.” 

“She’d love this case,” Sam said. _And maybe it’d help her with whatever she’s going through_ ,he added inside his head. “I’m going to go check on her.”

Gabriel groaned. “But Saaaammy, I don’t want to mooove.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on, short stuff.”

Gabriel rolled off the couch, flopped ungracefully onto the floor, and finally followed Sam deeper into the bunker. 

Charlie’s room was a geek’s paradise. It was filled with Harry Potter bobbleheads, exclusive Doctor Who fan merch, and classic Star Wars posters. A big bay window with Dean’s protective symbols all over it was partially covered with Game of Thrones curtains. Red Bull cans and various candy wrappers were scattered around the room, along with a few empty plates. Her TARDIS bedspread was halfway off the bed, revealing Charlie’s slumped-over form and her Leia tank top and flannel pajama pants. She’d fallen asleep over her computer, which flashed a Sherlock screensaver.

“Charlie,” Sam called softly, stepping into the room with Gabriel close behind.

“Wha--” Charlie said, jerking upward. She saw Sam and Gabriel and pushed her hair out of her face while shoving her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. 

“Hey, Sam. Random dude,” she said, nodding at Gabriel. 

“Oh, that’s right,” Sam said, remembering that Gabriel and Charlie had never met. “This is Gabriel. He’s…” Sam hesitated, not exactly sure how to explain Gabriel. 

Gabriel pushed forward. “I used to be an archangel. You may remember me as the handsome devil who told Mary she was pregnant. A little after that, I decided I didn’t like the way my dear brothers were running heaven and decided to fall. Then I spent a while as a pagan god, had some fun as a trickster, killed Dean a couple times, decided to help the Winchesters and ended up almost dying myself, yada yada. Now I’m here.” He stuck out his hand and Charlie shook it hesitantly. 

“Nice to meet you, I guess. Sorry the room’s such a mess.” 

Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you kidding? This room is great. I helped Carrie Fisher prep for her role as Leia, and I was on the set of the very first premiere of Doctor Who. If you ever need someone for a binge watch, call me.”

Both Charlie and Sam stared at him in confusion. 

“What? Just because I used to be an angel, I’m not allowed to like classic sci fi?”

Sam coughed. “Anyway, we’ve got a case.” He explained it briefly to Charlie. 

“That is so Harry Potter!” she said when he finished. “Can I come with?”

Sam looked at Gabriel awkwardly, and Charlie’s gaydar picked it up right away. “You two have a thing?”

“That’s the short version,” Sam answered. “Basically, it’s safer for you to hang back on this one.”

“Did he mark you?” Charlie asked.

“What?” Sam said.  
“Dude, I catalogued the entire Men of Letters library. At this point, I’m probably more qualified than you are. ” 

“Any tips on handling the whole marking thing, then?” Sam asked.

Charlie snorted. “No. That stuff is more permanent than the deaths of female characters in most popular media. And it’s definitely going to make cases more difficult, at least for a while. I’ll do mission control from here. Make sure your cell is on, and I’ll keep digging through the Winchester Library of Weird Shit.”

“Great name,” Gabriel interjected. Charlie grinned while Sam breathed a sigh of relief. No matter how confident he felt about a case, it was always nice to have Charlie on backup, especially if the Men of Letters library suggested that marking would be a problem.

“Thanks, Charlie.”

“No prob. Hey, can you grab me some coffee, energy drinks, and candy while you’re out? And a basilisk fang would be hella cool, if you can manage it.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll do my best,” Sam said. He got up to leave, and Gabriel waved to Charlie as he stepped out of the doorway. Charlie grabbed Sam’s sleeve. 

“One more thing.”

“What is it?” Sam asked.

“Hope it works out between you two,” she said, gesturing at Gabriel’s receding back. “He might not be the angelic ideal, but I think he’s good for you. And any guy who will binge sci-fi with someone is a keeper." 

Sam smiled and left the room, closing the door quietly. Inside, he heard Charlie start humming and the sounds of typing floated out of the room.

He took a few long strides and caught up with Gabriel, and the two walked toward the garage. Suddenly, Gabriel said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

“Marking you,” Gabriel answered. “This wasn’t supposed to move so fast. You should be able to back out, to leave if you need to. Consent is the most important thing.” He sighed. “I suck at this.”

“Gabriel --” Sam started.

“It’s just that angels don’t have any concept of time. We move fast or slow or whatever, and it doesn’t even matter to us. And that's just an excuse. Sam, I fuck everything up. Being an angel, being a god, being human.... I haven't done any of it right." 

“Gabr--”

“And now my grace is burning under your skin and you could get into trouble or even die because of me and I’m sorry, Sam. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Sam got tired of the angsting and decided to use the same trick he’d employed last time. He pushed Gabriel up against the wall of the bunker, placed both hands to either side of his body, and locked eyes with him. 

“Gabriel.”

The eyes that gazed back at him were filled with shame and guilt. “Sam.”

“Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be like this, but this? This is perfect. You are perfect. We’re here in a decades-old, musty bunker in Kansas with an angel who barely understands what Cheetos are, an interfering brother, and a lesbian geek; we have to go kill a basilisk somehow; and I couldn’t imagine anything better. You are my sun, the golden presence that lights up any room, and I will always want you. It doesn’t matter at what speed we move.” He leaned in and kissed Gabriel’s forehead lightly, then his cheeks and nose. Gabriel stretched up on his tiptoes and pressed his mouth against Sam’s, muttering Enochian against his lips. Sam felt a tear slip down the space between their cheeks.

When Gabriel pulled away, it was only for the space of a few inches, then he whispered, “Sam Winchester. My mate, my moon and all my stars.”

Sam slipped his hand into Gabriel’s and held on tightly for a few seconds, then pushed the door to the garage open to begin the long drive to Tennessee.


	4. Hunting with The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel, Sam, Cas, and Dean head out on the hunt and essentially act like a bunch of children in the car. Cas and Dean "fuck it out" and Gabriel makes a sacrifice.

Fortunately, when they walked in, Dean and Cas weren’t making out. Sam had almost been expecting it, and threw Chuck a quick prayer of thanks.

“Ready to go, Sammy?” Dean asked, running his hand along the side of the Impala.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Gabriel asked indignantly.

“No, it’s just that I prefer to address the dominant one in the relationship,” Dean said. He looked uncomfortable. “Wait, Sam, you are the dominant one, right?”

“First of all, can you stop being so awkwardly heterosexual for five seconds? We all know you’re bi,” Sam said, opening the passenger door of the Impala and swinging inside. “And second, so not the time.”

“He’s totally the dom,” Dean whispered to Cas.

“Dean, might want to drive the car so we can go save some lives,” Sam called.

“Right, okay,” Dean said. “Everybody in.” He got into the driver’s seat and Cas and Gabriel piled into the back. 

It was quiet as they started driving, especially since it was already past sunset and no one in the car typically slept very much. For a few hours, they drove in companionable silence. Then Dean yawned, and Cas piped up from the back, “Dean, I can drive for you if you would like.”

“Sure, Cas, that’d be nice,” Dean said sleepily. 

Sam turned so quickly he almost got whiplash, but Gabriel answered first. “Absolutely not, Dean. I know you like him, but Cas has no idea how to drive a car. Me, on the other hand...I had a bit part in Dukes of Hazzard, and I know my way around a wheel.”

“Okay, so no angels are allowed to drive,” Sam cut in. “Dean, if you’re getting tired, I can drive, but we might want to stop soon.”

Dean nodded. “‘Kay, Sammy. I’ll stick it out for another hour, and we’ll crash at some crappy motel.”

Everything was quiet again for a few minutes, then Sam heard faint singing that sounded something like “Wildest Dreams” by Taylor Swift. 

“Sam’s so tall, and handsome as hell...so bad, but he does it so well.” 

Sam called back, “Gabriel, are you singing?”

“Not..not out loud,” Gabriel said, sounding a little embarrassed.

Cas cleared his throat. “It is the mark,” he said solemnly. “You will begin to hear some of each other’s thoughts. With luck, you will be able to control it within a day.”

Sam sighed. “Why did Chuck think that was a good idea?”

“It is very useful in battle or dangerous situations,” Cas said defensively.

“Wait, hold on, couldn’t one of you two have just snapped us there?” Dean said.

“Well, duh, Dean-o. Just thought it’d be more fun this way. And I kinda wanted to see how long it’d take you to figure it out,” Gabriel said.

“That’s it,” Dean said, taking the nearest exit. “We’re stopping and tomorrow someone is going to teleport us to Tennessee.”

The tires of the Impala screeched as Dean pulled into a motel parking lot. They all got out of the car and went to reserve rooms. Unfortunately, only two were still available, and they were both single queen-sized beds.

Before Dean could protest, Sam slapped down a credit card. “We’ll take them, thanks,” he said to the pretty Korean woman at the counter. As she scanned the card, Dean whispered to Sam, “Not cool.” 

“Dean, you’ll figure it out. You always do,” Sam said, smiling and accepting the card back. “You and Cas have room 112, and Gabriel and I are room 560. See you in the morning!”

Dean shook his head, and Sam knew he was probably planning out how to kill Sam in his sleep. He knew the experience would be good for Dean, though, so he just smiled and headed toward the elevator.

He called Charlie in the elevator to check in. She was doing fine and had apparently even ventured out for snacks. During that run, she’d noticed Kevin and his mom, who had been moved into the Bunker Protection Program a week ago. She and Kevin had become fast friends and were putting together a quick report for Sam on basilisks, which Charlie said he should get in the morning.

“Okay, thanks, Charlie,” Sam said. “Get some rest, okay?” He ended the call.

Once he and Gabriel arrived in their room, Gabriel began pulling off his clothes unashamedly. Taking his cue, Sam stripped down to his boxers too. Gabriel pulled down the covers and got into the bed, and Sam looked at him uncomfortably. “Um…”

“Come on, Samsquatch, you’ve got my consent this time around,” Gabriel said with a grin. He patted the pillow next to him, and Sam slipped into bed.

“Dear Chuck, you’re huge,” Gabriel said, trying to pull Sam nearer to him. “Snuggle with me, idiot. I don’t bite.”

Sam smiled and wrapped his arms around Gabriel, encompassing the angel’s body with his own. “Better?”

“Yes,” Gabriel murmured, “Now get some sleep.”

Sam slept more comfortably than he had in years.

He woke up to the hotel alarm shrieking and reluctantly got out of bed. Gabriel was nowhere to be found, and Sam immediately felt frustrated with himself for expecting him to stay. Gabriel was busy. He was probably trying to figure out how to transport everyone and Dean’s big-ass car to Tennessee without killing himself, not worrying about --

“Sam!” Gabriel said, popping out of the bathroom. “About time you woke up.” The buttons on his shirt were a mess, and Sam rolled his eyes and adjusted them while breathing a sigh of relief.

“Let’s go find out whether Dean and Cas sorted themselves out yet,” Gabriel said. “And then we can grab some free breakfast!”

The pair made their way back to Dean and Cas’s room, and Sam knocked tentatively at the door. Dean swung it open with a huge smile on his face. Both he and Cas were dressed and packed, and Cas was carefully making the bed behind Dean.

“Hey, Sam. Nice morning, isn’t it?” Dean asked cheerfully.

“Yep, it’s just lovely,” Gabriel said. “So did you two fuck it out?”

Sam pressed his fingers into his temples. “Bye, Gabriel.”

“What?” Gabriel said defensively.

“Just take Cas and give Dean and I some space, okay?”

When they’d left, Sam sat down on the bed. “So what happened?”

“I know I said no chick flick moments,” Dean said, “but this was one, okay? I was just lying there, trying not to get too close to him, and he said out of the blue, ‘Do you love me, Dean?’ And I realized that I kinda do. It’s never just been about the sex, although that is awesome. I mean--"

“Dean, stay on track,” Sam said. 

“Okay. So I said, ‘Yeah, buddy, I do,’ and he said, ‘I know,’ and I laughed because there’s no way he gets that reference, right? And then we had this big girly talk about feelings and junk and he marked me and yeah.” Dean swallowed awkwardly, looking like he was afraid Sam was going to hit him.

“Took you long enough,” Sam said with a smile. He hugged Dean tightly and said, “I’m happy for you, Dean.”

Dean smiled cautiously, then beamed. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

Gabriel knocked on the door and called, “If you two are done in there, we’ve got a case!”

“Let’s go,” Sam said, offering his hand to Dean. Dean took it, and they walked out of the door. Gabriel grabbed Cas’s hand and tapped them both, and a second later they were in the middle of a busy city intersection.

Sam barely had time to let out a terrified sound before Gabriel said, “Crap,” and transported them again. This time they ended up in the back of a Krispy Kreme.

“Dude, were you trying to get us killed?” Dean asked angrily.

“Not Sam, but I could live with you dying,” Gabriel said flippantly.

“Enough,” Cas said. “Gabriel, apologize. Dean, baby, he didn’t mean to do it.”

Sam choked back a laugh, and Gabriel said, “Sorry, Dean. I’m a little rusty.”

Dean was distracted by another sex-eyes staring contest with Cas and waved his hand. “Yeah, okay."

Sam, trying to prevent unsanitary sex in an alley, said, “So is this where the basilisk attacked?”

Dean broke the stare, coughed, and turned to Sam. “Yeah, this is it. Did you get the information from Charlie?”

Sam pulled up his email and scanned the document quickly. “Wow, Harry Potter was pretty accurate,” he muttered. More loudly, he said, “She said that it’s likely the basilisk went into the sewer system, so that’s where we’re headed. Not too much of a human element to this case.”

“Yay, sewers,” Gabriel grumbled. “We couldn’t have just stayed in the donut shop?”

“We’re never that lucky,” Sam said. He glanced around and bent down to pop open a manhole. Cas moved to help him, and soon they were descending into the darkness.

When they hit the bottom, Sam said, “So, basilisks have ‘the power to cause death with a glance.’ They can kill just by looking at you. Additionally, their fangs are venomous and they can spit poison. According to some accounts, they can also breathe fire and can kill through speaking as well. Everyone feeling confident?”

He couldn’t see very well in the darkness, but he was pretty sure both Gabriel and Dean were rolling their eyes at him. 

“Good news: it’s vulnerable to roosters and mirrors.”

“So do you have some of your hairstyling mirrors with you?” Dean asked as they slogged through the waste.

“No, but I’ve got a plan,” Sam said. “We just need to find it.”

“That might be easier than we thought,” Cas breathed from up ahead. “Sam, you said that this creature was no more than six feet in length and appears as a large lizard, correct?”

“Yeah,” Sam said quietly.

“I believe we have just located it,” Cas said, pointing to a spot in the muck a few feet ahead of him. A pair of glowing yellow eyes peered out, and a body moved slowly beneath the waste.

“Okay,” Sam said, stepping forward. “Everyone get back. No sudden movements.”

He continued wading toward the basilisk. Dean pulled Cas back and sheltered him with his body. 

Suddenly, the snake reared up and hissed.

“Sam!” Gabriel yelled. He flung himself between the basilisk and Sam’s body, and Sam heard the hiss of poison as it hit Gabriel in the side. Cas grabbed his body and yelled roughly, “Now, Sam!”

Sam heard Gabriel's thoughts briefly, which were essentially: Fuck. Ow. 

In a state of shock, Sam pulled out his phone and aimed it at the creature. It screamed, and its eyes grew larger until they exploded and it collapsed to the ground, dead.

“Proves that modern technology isn’t useless,” Sam said, panting hard. 

“Whoa,” Dean said. “What did you do?”

“Used the camera function to give it a taste of its own medicine.” He rushed to Gabriel’s side. “Castiel, is he okay?”

Cas looked up, and Sam saw his own fear reflected in Cas’s eyes. “The transport weakened him greatly...I do not think I can heal him on my own. If I get us back to the bunker, I might be able to save him. But I may also lose the strength that I need to do so.”

Sam stepped back, head reeling. From a foggy place, he heard Dean say, “It’s your choice, Sam.”  
Sam gathered himself together and grabbed Cas and Dean’s hands. “Do it.”

A second later, they were in the bunker kitchen, where Charlie was eating a Kit Kat.

“Shit,” she said, staring at Gabriel’s pale body and Sam’s exhausted and pained face. She looked up quickly. “Cas, we need phoenix tears. Now.”

Cas nodded and was gone. 

“Dean, bandages, antiseptic, scalpels. You know where they are.” Dean sprinted out of the kitchen, and dimly Sam appreciated how quickly he rushed to help Gabriel, who wasn’t his favorite person.

Charlie put her arms around Sam. “Don’t worry, Sam. He’s strong -- he might eat a lot of marshmallows, but that’s not what he’s made of.” She laughed thinly. “He’ll pull through.”

Sam sat down heavily and whispered, “I hope so.”


	5. Tattoos and Turncoats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam worries over Gabriel, who's still comatose, and Charlie and Kevin train with Dean to become hunters.

 Sam sat on the couch near Gabriel’s bed and sighed. It had been a week. A week of Gabriel lying motionless, soundless, close to lifeless in bed. Cas had managed to get the phoenix tears in time and poured them over the wound. Gabriel had gasped and sat up for a moment, then collapsed. Dean and Sam had lugged him into bed while Charlie cleaned and bandaged the wound, then had set up a watch rotation so that they could keep an eye on him. Sam, drawn by the mark, had taken over a lot of watches.

Since that day, Charlie had completely finished The Winchester Library of Weird Shit (or WLWS as she called it), Sam and Dean had been on a few hunts, Cas had headed to take care of "important angel business" (quotation marks his), and Charlie and Kevin had started hunter training. Kevin was a great shot, and Charlie was death with a blade, but they had yet to perfect each other’s preferred weapons.

Sam had pushed them hard, mostly because of his worry over Gabriel.

The day before, Dean had stopped him after he yelled at Kevin for unsteadiness while shooting.

“Take a break, man,” Dean had said. “You’re worried about Gabriel. It’s okay. Spend some time with him, get some rest, and come back to training when you’re ready.”

Sam had thanked him and gone straight to Gabriel’s side, where he had spent hours trying to pick up something through the bond. Flashes of memories, mostly concerning Gabriel’s younger days in heaven, were the only things that Sam managed to get. He had seen Gabriel playing with Cas, singing him songs, and feeding him something that translated from Enochian as “Angel-O’s”. He had also seen bits and pieces of Gabriel tending to other angels, from Anna to Balthazar. Apparently Gabriel had played the part of heaven’s babysitter. The memories had become less and less frequent, until this morning, when nothing had come through at all.

Each day, Sam became more and more afraid that Gabriel would never wake up. Now, it seemed like his fears might be coming true.

Well, if Gabriel was dying, he wasn’t going to die quietly. Sam bent his head over the bed and began singing softly, tracing lyrics across Gabriel’s arms. He sang through a few Florence and the Machine songs, then stopped for a few minutes to drink some water. He kept singing. At some point, Charlie brought him lunch, telling him that “even big buff panromantic guys sick with love and worry need to eat.” He swallowed a few bites, settled back into the chair and sang again, as the light dimmed slowly behind the window blinds. He sang Daughter and Three Door Cinema Club and Halsey. He hummed musicals against Gabriel’s hair and symphonies on his chest.

Finally, his voice raspy from overuse, he started singing “Always,” one of his favorite Panic! at the Disco songs, and Gabriel moved.

Sam stopped for a minute in shock, then pulled himself together and kept going.

As he sang, Gabriel shifted again, then opened his mouth. Golden light flowed out from his body in thin swirling lines and touched Sam with a slight tingling sensation. The light bound their bodies together until the whole room shimmered gently. Finally, the last line of light flowed out of Gabriel’s mouth, along with the last few notes of the song, and Gabriel opened his eyes.

For the sake of wrapping Gabriel up in his arms, Sam ignored the lines of light. “God,” he whispered through the glow, “you’re alive.” 

"As if I could ever leave you,” Gabriel murmured back. “Side note: why did you start courting me while I was unconscious? That’s not exactly the traditional method.”

“Not exactly my plan,” Sam answered softly. “I was just hoping that you wouldn’t die.”

Abruptly, the light started fading, and Gabriel pulled away from Sam with a quiet, “Ah, shit.”

“What?” Sam asked, confused.

"We have to finish the ritual,” Gabriel said. He sat up with a groan. "Honestly, screw the whole time limit on this. We need to sing together, now, before the light dies.” He hummed a starting pitch. “Follow my lead. We should have at least one song in Enochian.”

Sam matched his pitch and they began the song Gabriel had sung to Sam all those weeks ago, before any bonding had even begun. Through the mark, Sam could understand scraps of the music. There were stanzas about forbidden love, a human and an angel, a baby, and an endless song…

They finished on a high pure note. The lines of light bled into Sam and Gabriel’s bodies, disappearing beneath their skin. Sam looked at Gabriel.

“It was about the Nephilim.” Sam’s words weren’t a question.

“Not any Nephilim,” Gabriel said. “The Nephilim. The first one, the very first offspring of the very first angel that dared to break away from heaven and love a human.”

“Perfect courtship song,” Sam said. He nudged Gabriel out of the way and got into bed beside him. Gabriel groaned theatrically, and Sam moved backward quickly.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s no fun pretending to be hurt when you think I actually am.”

Sam laughed, then grew serious. “Do you miss it?”

“Heaven? Of course. All the time,” Gabriel said. “It’s always there in the back of my mind. But falling was more than worth it, especially because of you.”

Sam leaned in and kissed Gabriel’s forehead gently. As he pulled back, Gabriel looked at a spot under his ear and said, “Wow. Never seen one like that before.”

Sam clapped a hand to his ear. “What? What is it?” He hoped to Chuck that it wasn't something that Dean would make fun of him for. 

“A courting tattoo. All that light’s gotta go somewhere, Samsquatch.” Gabriel pulled Sam’s hand away and brushed his fingers beneath Sam’s ear. “They tend to be something simple. The name of the angel’s mate, a pair of wings, or a heart are the usual marks.”

"Well, what’s mine?” Sam asked, trying to disregard this newest bit of angelic weirdness.

Gabriel smiled. “Check me out. I have the same one.” He turned his head and Sam looked beneath his ear. The tattoo was tiny and traced in golden light in the hollow under Gabriel’s left earlobe. It consisted of a circle threaded through with loops that matched the color of Gabriel’s wings. In the center, a S and a G were tightly intertwined with a ring of stars.

"I’ve never been much of a tattoo guy, but I kinda like it,” Gabriel said with his head still turned to the side.

“I don’t know. I think it’s a little cheesy,” Sam said, rubbing the spot under his own ear.

Gabriel turned back. “The symbol of our eternal love is cheesy? How you pain me, Sam Winchester,” he said, throwing a hand to his chest dramatically.

Sam flopped back onto the bed. “Okay, okay. Sorry for talking badly about our star-crossed romance.”

Gabriel snickered. “Star-crossed. Like the tattoo.” His face became solemn. “Seriously, though, if you don’t like it, I can probably get Anna to take it off.”

“How would she…” Sam decided that he didn’t want to know if Anna was somehow an professional angelic tattoo remover. “It’s okay. It’s nice, really.”

Gabriel grabbed his chin and stared into his eyes. “You sure, Sammy? ‘Cause I don’t want you all marked up unless that’s what you’re into.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m sure. The stars are beautiful, and it's a symbol of us, right?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said with a smile. Sam kissed him again. Gabriel responded eagerly, pulling Sam’s lower lip into his mouth and sucking gently. He ran his hands under Sam’s shirt and tugged Sam closer to him. Sam tensed up and tried to go with it for a second, then pushed Gabriel away gently.

“What’s wrong?” Gabriel asked, trying to cover up the rejection in his voice.

Sam ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Uh, it’s just that.. uh, I’m asexual. Not really into the whole sex thing.” He looked up to see Gabriel gazing at him intently, without any expression on his face. Sam’s stomach felt as though someone had tied it into knots. “It’s, uh, it’s when you don’t feel any sexual attraction and have no desire for sex. You can still experience arousal, but you don’t want sex. I mean, that’s some aces,” he stammered hurriedly. “That’s how I identify.”

“I know what asexuality is,” Gabriel said, still looking at Sam in the same strangely emotionless way.

Sam rolled away from Gabriel in the bed. “I probably should have told you earlier. You probably feel like I’ve been leading you on, and now we can’t even bond properly. God, I fucked up.”

Sam’s body tightened as Gabriel laid a hand on his shoulder. “Hey.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam muttered into his pillow.

Gabriel sounded exasperated. “Turn around, you giant idiot.”

Sam untangled himself from the sheet and shifted to face Gabriel, who said, “You think I care if you’re asexual? It doesn’t matter to me if we have sex from dawn until dusk or stay celibate for the rest of our lives. It didn’t matter to me that you drank demon blood, or that you started the apocalypse, or that you’re irrationally dependent on your brother.” His brow furrowed and he gave a wry grin. “And I guess those aren’t very good examples, because those are mistakes, and this is a part of you. A good part, no less.”

Sam swallowed and twisted his hands together, a nervous habit he hadn’t shown since high school. “But the bond..”

Gabriel sighed. “What part of your brain is malfunctioning so severely that you think there’s never been an asexual angel? Hell, _Cassie_ is on the ace spectrum. Leaning a little more toward demisexual, but still.” He shook his head. “Chuck was at least smart enough to plan ahead for this. We can skip physical bonding or even just do it through casual contact, whatever you’re more comfortable with. We can even just make brownies together or some shit."

Sam relaxed into the bed so much that for a moment Gabriel was afraid he was going to sink through into the floor. “Thank Chuck.” He gave Gabriel a weak smile.

“Forget what dear old dad told you, Sammy. I’ve been around self-righteous assholes, and their views on sexuality, gender, and romantic orientation are about as accurate as medieval views on medicine. I mean, would you trust someone who thinks that leeches can cure your cold?”

Sam let out a quick laugh and shook his head.

“Then stop trusting the man who made you a warrior from the day you were born. Leave the guilt and the shame behind.”

Sam tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. “Only if you do it too.”

Gabriel looked startled. “Here I am trying to have a heartfelt moment, and you make it all about me. Typical Sam,” he snarked.

“You need to hear it too, Gabriel. All of the messed-up people in this bunker do.”

Gabriel exhaled deeply and moved closer to Sam. “Okay, Sammy. I’ll let the past go and you can bury John Winchester for good. Now let’s talk about boundaries.”

The pair spent a few minutes discussing Sam’s limits, which boiled down to Sam preferring that physical interaction not go beyond kissing. Gabriel was understanding and straightforward, and Sam sent up a quiet prayer of thanks to Chuck.

The conversation hit a lull, and Sam decided to go check up on Charlie, Kevin, and Dean. He invited Gabriel along, but Gabriel retorted, “The poor prophet is training to become a hunter and you want him to meet me? Hasn’t the kid had enough pain in his life for one day?”

Sam laughed, but it was a fair point. Kevin was probably a little overwhelmed, even with a new, more laid-back Dean training him.

So Sam left Gabriel in bed (did the archangel ever do anything besides sleep and eat? CNN investigates at 11) and headed to the gun room, where Dean had been training the others when Sam had left.

Sure enough, they were there, Kevin and Dean standing back, Charlie with headphones clamped securely over her ears firing at a target. When Sam walked in, she pulled off the headphones and ran over to him eagerly. “Sam, did you see that? I think I might actually be making some of these shots."

Sam glanced at the paper cutout and, surprisingly, saw a few bullet holes near the heart and through the head. “Charlie, that’s awesome.”

She grinned back cheerfully. Dean coughed from the back of the room and said, “Okay, that’s enough for today. It’s getting late.” His face became worried. “Sam, is Gabriel okay?”

“Miraculously, he has evaded death once again,” Sam answered.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, then said, “Yeah, Death probably isn’t ready to be annoyed by Gabriel for eternity yet.” He walked out of the room and gave Sam a brotherly shoulder-bump on the way out.

Kevin walked up to Sam. “Hey, how’s it going?” Sam asked.

“About as well as you'd expect with Dean as head trainer,” Kevin said with a grin. “And with my mom being totally against the idea of me training.”

"She’ll get over it,” Sam said. “It’s tough, but it’ll keep you safe.” He remembered what he and Gabriel had talked about, and hastily added, “But feel free to quit if you want. We don’t want to force you into anything.”

Kevin stared at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding? I want to be able to murder the faces off of Crowley’s demons if they ever come looking for me again.”

“Fair enough,” Sam said with a nod.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go try to catch a few winks before Dean wakes us up at two in the morning for ‘guns in the dark outdoors,’” Kevin said ruefully. He nodded at Charlie and headed out of the room.

“Good going with the gun, Charlie,” Sam said. “Kevin getting any better with a knife?”

"Nah,” Charlie said, holstering the pistol at her hip and leaning against a railing. “But it’s okay. The guy kicks some serious ass with anything that fires a bullet. Gabriel’s doing fine, then?”

Sam sat on the railing and smiled. “Yep. He’s back to his usual sarcastic self.” He looked at Charlie skeptically. “Hey, whatever happened to Gilda?”

“Who?” Charlie said, looking intensely nervous. “You know, I think I should probably go too. Don’t want to be late for the great guns and outdoors.” She laughed awkwardly and tried to back out of the room, but Sam stopped her.

“Charlie, what happened?”

She sighed and went back to the railing. “She ratted me out, Sam. Turned out to be evil, of course, and told her bosses all about me. I had to move and change my name again, but they followed me anyway. You and Dean were the only people I could think of to go to. I kept an electronic eye on them, and we're safe now."

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam asked.

“I didn’t want you guys to turn me away,” Charlie said simply.

Sam slid off the railing and hugged her gently. “We never would have done that,” he said. “You’re family now. And hey, you know what?”

"What?” Charlie asked from inside the gigantic circle of Sam's arms, sounding slightly choked up.

“You’ll find someone better. She didn’t deserve you anyway.”

Charlie laughed through her tears and pushed Sam away. “That’s so cliche, dude.”

“Come on, let’s see if we can get a sandwich or something from the kitchen,” Sam said, tugging Charlie toward the doorway.

“How did you even survive on your own in Stanford if you can’t cook anything more advanced than a sandwich…” Charlie’s voice faded as they made their way toward the kitchen.


	6. Like A Bolt of Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie and Sam talk, and Sam and Gabriel continue their bonding.  
> Bonus points to anyone who finds the Smallville reference! Hint: It's Chloe Sullivan's (aka light of my life's) line.

When Sam and Charlie made it to the kitchen, it was quiet. The counter was covered with crumbs, a sure sign that Dean had been there, but otherwise it was empty.

"I'm glad that Dean ate. Hopefully he's curled up in bed sleeping," Sam said.

"I hope he's curled up in bed with Cas," Charlie said with a wink.

Sam laughed and swung open the fridge. "What do you want?"

"I got it," Charlie said, reaching around him. "We both know the kitchen isn't exactly your domain."

Sam sat on a barstool and watched Charlie as she pulled out grilled chicken, a tortilla, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, bell peppers, and a bunch of spices. She started chopping the veggies.

"So what's it like dating an all-powerful angel?" she asked, scraping the vegetables into a neat line and slicing through them again.

"It's...eventful," Sam said. He turned his head, and Charlie nearly cut her fingers off.

"Is that a tattoo? Sam, I didn't know you had it in you."

Sam blushed. "It wasn't intentional. It's an angelic courting thing."

"Oh, I see." Charlie put the chicken and cheese into a pan on the stove with the spices and stirred them with a wooden spoon. "Does Gabriel know you're asexual?"

The question caught Sam off guard. "What?"

"Asexual. You. Does Gabriel know? Because according to the library, you have a kinda physical part of bonding coming up."

"Um, yeah. He said that all physical contact works, not just sexual. How did you know?"

Charlie plopped the chicken and cheese into the tortilla and sprinkled the veggies on top, then wrapped it up tightly. "You know how people have gaydar? I just have queerdar. Like I can tell if people are ace or pan or bi almost as well as I can tell if they're straight or not." She took a casual bite of her burrito, then caught sight of Sam's uncomfortable expression. "Sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out."

Sam loosened up slightly. "It's okay. I just...it's kind of personal."

Charlie ran a finger across her lips and mimed throwing away a key. "My lips are sealed, and if you want, we can agree to never speak of this again."

Sam smiled a little. "No need to get extreme. I need a little time to adjust, though."

"Sure." Charlie settled on the barstool next to him. 

"Are you still in charge of Moondor?" he asked. 

"Yeah, but I do it through video chat now," she said through a mouthful of burrito. 

"I thought modern devices weren't allowed there," Sam said. 

Charlie answered, "It's good to be queen, Sam. I'm using my magical powers as the ruler of the land to be in more than one place at once." She grinned. "And trust me, we need it. My lieutenant Gregory..." she continued talking about Moondor and Sam listened, asking questions and proposing new ideas. When he suggested that she set up a reporting system through her computer, she laughed and told him that Dean had already helped her put it together. Sam arched his eyebrows, but took it in stride. 

Gabriel interrupted after a while, stumbling in dressed in a robe with untidy bedhead. Charlie coughed and said, "You know, I think I have to go, uh, check on something in my room where I can't hear or see anything that's going on in here." She slipped out of the kitchen and gave Sam a very obvious wink as she left. 

"I think she approves," Gabriel said dryly, pulling open the fridge. 

Sam leaned against the countertop. "Good. I wouldn't touch you if she didn't," he deadpanned.

Gabriel poked his head out from inside the fridge in shock, then smiled as Sam started laughing. 

"Put a sock in it, Sammykins," he said. He took out the milk, eggs, and butter, grabbed a few other ingredients from the cabinets, and began making waffles. 

"But really, Charlie's cool. If she didn't like you...well, I don't know if I'd entirely avoid you, but I'd tread carefully."

Gabriel whisked quickly and smirked at Sam. "Well, I am pretty dangerous."

"I'm used to living on the edge," Sam said, sliding along the countertop until he stood behind Gabriel. 

"It's night. Why are you making breakfast food?" he breathed against Gabriel's neck. 

Gabriel twisted to face him and tapped him lightly with the whisk. "You have much to learn, young Padawan. Breakfast food is awesome at any time of day or night." He reached around Sam to get the flour. 

Sam shifted out of the way to allow him access, then wrapped his arms around Gabriel from behind and rested his head on top of Gabriel's. "Can I help?"

Sam could feel Gabriel's body tense up below him. He stopped mixing for a moment and seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "How...how much do you want to help with?"

The vibrations of Sam's laugh rolled through Gabriel. "Why? Is there something special about cooking waffles?"

Gabriel tipped his head to the side. "Well, there might be. Depending on whether this is a brownie-making situation or not."

He could feel Sam's breathing stutter. "Oh. You mean like a bonding situation."

Gabriel nodded, then laughed shortly. "You're going to know what's happening going into this one, Samsquatch."

"Hmmm." Sam's arms tightened around Gabriel, and Gabriel could almost see him furrowing his brows and making that thoughtful face that Gabriel loved. "Well, in that case I think I'd like to help with everything."

Gabriel turned in Sam's arms until they stood face to face, then stretched up on his tiptoes in an attempt to reach Sam's face. It didn't work. He pulled on Sam's collar and let out a groan of frustration. 

"Damnit, Sammy, I just want to kiss you," he said. 

Sam beamed and grabbed Gabriel's hips, then lifted him onto the countertop in one easy movement. The bowl with the waffle batter clattered to the side, and Sam looked panicky and checked it quickly. He leaned back to Gabriel. 

"We're good. It didn't spill."

Gabriel laughed. 

"So you were saying something about a kiss?" Sam asked, his face inches from Gabriel's. "I think that can be arranged."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and took Sam's face into his hands. He kissed Sam softly, pushing his hands into Sam's hair, and Sam moaned softly and returned the kiss eagerly. They stayed tangled together for a few moments, then broke apart, and Gabriel said, "Come help me finish these waffles."

He slid off the counter and picked up the spoon again. Sam carefully placed his massive hand over Gabriel's delicate, long-fingered hand, and they stirred together. They moved as one being as they picked up ingredients and poured or sprinkled them in. The moon outside lit the kitchen with a soft glow as Gabriel and Sam worked in perfect tandem. Soon, the batter was a pale golden color and nearly finished. 

"Last stir," Gabriel said, looking at Sam nervously. 

Sam felt a little skittish too, but he twined his fingers with Gabriel's and placed their hands on the spoon together. "Here we go."

They stirred, and for a moment nothing happened. Sam turned to Gabriel. "Did it w-" He doubled over as a wave of the most intense pleasure that he'd ever felt washed over him. Next to him, Gabriel seemed to be struggling with the same brain-melting feeling. 

It was a messy combination of Sam's favorite things assaulting his senses: books and coffee and hunting and rich raspberries and Gabriel. It was a mixture of warmth, like the way that he'd felt the first time that he'd slept in Gabriel's bed, and pure pleasure shooting through his synapses. For a minute, he was able to handle the sensation, then his vision began to blur. 

His last thought before he blacked out was: _Whoa. I can see why this would be part of physical bonding._

Sam woke up flat on the floor with Gabriel next to him. 

"Ugh," Gabriel said without moving. "My head feels awful."

Sam tried to sit up and nearly fainted again. He thudded into the kitchen floor. "If it hit you that hard, how am I not dead?"

"We share strength," Gabriel grumbled. "Still hurts, though."

"Yep," Sam said. "It was amazing while it lasted."

" _Hell_ yeah," Gabriel said. "I can't _believe_ that's what it feels like. Lucky mated angels. I thought they were all joking about physical bonding." He sounded crabby, and Sam snorted softly. 

"Get over here, Samsquatch," Gabriel added. "We might as well be in pain together."

Sam scooted across the floor, taking frequent breaks to rest, and made it over to Gabriel. Gabriel opened his arms, and Sam snuggled into him. 


	7. Star Bright, Waffle Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Sam make waffles and plan weddings.

Gabriel and Sam lay peacefully together on the kitchen floor. The wood was cool against Sam's body, if a little hard. His headache began to fade slightly, and he traced the patterns of the moonlight onto Gabriel's body. He hummed the notes of the Enochian song softly and felt Gabriel smile beside him and hum back. Their music swirled together in the night air. Gabriel stroked Sam's back lightly and sighed.

Sam raised his head from the embrace of Gabriel's chest. "You okay?"

Gabriel tipped his head down and met Sam's lips with his own. He leaned up again and said, "I love you, Sam Winchester."

"I love you too, Gabriel," Sam said. The words seemed to come more easily than anything else in his life had. Nothing had ever been that simple -- not his family, school, hunting ... Gabriel made Sam feel like things would always be easy, like they would always be entwined like this, with the stars outside shining on them.

Gabriel rubbed Sam's back gently, and Sam moaned in pleasure. As he was about to drift into sleep, he felt Gabriel tense below him. 

"Sam."

"Yeah," Sam murmured sleepily.

"Sam, we forgot about the waffles."

"Gabriel, go to sleep."

"I don't sleep. Sam, the waffles are important. We can't let the batter go to waste!" He tried to push Sam's huge moose body off of him using only human strength, since he didn't want to bother with angelic powers, and utterly failed. "Sa-aam."

"Ugh. Okay, we'll make the damn waffles." Sam rolled slowly off of Gabriel's body and pushed himself up to his feet. "At least I don't feel like I'm going to die right now. Maybe in about twenty minutes instead."

Gabriel shrugged. "That's better, right?" He grinned, and Sam, even in his frustration, smiled back. 

The two made their way toward the counter. Even Gabriel staggered at times, still feeling the aftermath of the physical bonding, but they were able to support each other. Gabriel carefully stirred the batter, then opened the waffle iron and brushed on oil lightly. Sam settled into a barstool and put his face into his hands on the table. Gabriel poured in the batter, and a loud hiss emanated from the iron. He closed it and sat down next to Sam.

"What now?" Sam asked with a yawn.

"Now we wait," Gabriel said. He wrapped an arm around Sam. "It's okay if you need to catch a few winks."

With Gabriel's permission, Sam was asleep within seconds. Gabriel sang to himself softly as he pulled a freshly made waffle from the iron and repeated the process. When he was finished, he covered the waffles in plastic wrap and left them out for breakfast.

He had a large Sam-sized problem on his hands. Would he be able to make it to his bedroom with Sam in tow? Gabriel flicked a finger and lifted Sam into the air. The pressure behind his eyes was intense, and he slipped slightly on the hardwood floor. He decided not to push it and snapped his fingers. A few blankets and a couple of pillows appeared. He dragged Sam to the floor and arranged the bedding around him, then snuggled in beside him. Sam made a few soft noises, but didn't wake up. Gabriel kissed his forehead gently and settled in for the night. 

 

\----

Sam woke up as a sunbeam shining through one of the kitchen windows hit him directly in the eye. He turned to Gabriel, who was smiling at him.

"How's that squint treating you?"

"Pretty good," Sam said, shifting away from the sun. "You smell like butter and flour," he said lazily to Gabriel. 

Gabriel grinned. "Good. I've always wanted to smell like waffles. Speaking of," he said, standing up, "we should get some into the oven for breakfast."

Sam groaned. "Come back to bed, angel."

Gabriel arched his brows at Sam. "Moose, if you want to eat today, I'd better make something now."

Sam pouted, but allowed Gabriel to arrange the waffles inside the oven. When he was done, he lay down next to Sam again, and Sam draped an arm over him and nuzzled into his hair.

At that moment, Dean sprinted into the kitchen and grabbed Sam's arm. "Dude, show me yours."

"What?" Sam asked, blinking hard.

"Your courting tattoo. I got mine last night, and I didn't want to get in the middle of you and the less-fun angel, but I wanna see yours now."

Sam pushed back his hair, and Dean looked closely and smiled. "That's awesome." He turned his head so that Sam could see his tattoo, a tiny golden Impala with a pair of wings flared out behind it. 

"Isn't Cas jealous that the Impala is featured on your tattoo?" Sam asked jokingly. 

"He was at first. But after physical bonding? Not so much," Dean said with a lewd wink. 

Gabriel covered his ears. "La, la, la, la, I can't hear you," he said loudly. "Sam, I'll meet you in the bedroom when you're done with Dean." He retreated quickly, and Sam turned back to Dean. 

"You guys are moving pretty fast, huh?" Sam asked.

Dean sat at the counter, and Sam sat beside him. "Sam, I've been avoiding this for years. There's no speed that's too fast at this point."

"Fair enough," Sam said with a smile. "So physical bonding, huh? Gabriel and I had ours last night too." With a quick flash of surprise, Sam realized that Dean had no idea he was asexual. He had been comfortable telling Dean that he was pan when they were hunting one day, and Dean had taken it reasonably well, but he'd never found the right moment to tell Dean about his asexuality. 

"Hey, Dean?"

"What's up, Sammy?" 

Sam swallowed. Even now, coming out was hard. "I'm, uh, asexual."

"Cool," Dean said. "So physical bonding is great, right?"

Sam sat in stunned silence for a minute. "No issues with me being ace?"

"'Course not, Sammy. I don't mind you being into guys, and I don't mind you not being into sex. Kinda confused about how you bonded, though."

"Making waffles."

Dean laughed, and Sam was offended for a moment before realizing it was kind of funny. He laughed too, then asked, "Have you and Cas done your last stage of bonding yet?"

Dean quickly got more serious and sighed with pleasure. "Yeah. It's amazing." He looked at Sam. "How about you and Gabe?"

"Not yet," Sam said. 

"You'll like it," Dean said. "I can't really explain it, but you'll like it."

"So you and Cas are kinda married now, huh?"

Dean took a moment to think about it, then said, "Yeah, I guess we are."

Sam grinned. "Can we do a wedding ceremony? Charlie would love it."

"Only if you promise to stand up with me, Sammy."

Sam nodded. "Okay. Double wedding it is."

Dean stood and stretched. "I should let you get back to Gabriel so you can start picking out your colors. I'm heading outside to train a little with Charlie and Kevin -- you can come out whenever you feel like it."

"Sounds good," Sam said. "I'll see you soon."

 Dean left the room, and Sam put the waffles onto a plate and grabbed some syrup, butter, and utensils, then made his way toward Gabriel's bedroom carefully. 

"Hey," he said, pushing open the door. "How do you feel about a wedding?"

**Author's Note:**

> I'm ace too, so it's important to me to have good representation with Sam :). If I've made any sort of mistake, you want to talk to me, or you just want a super awesome blog, I'm on tumblr at http://www.supernovacharlie.tumblr.com. Come check me out!


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